The Darkest Unicorn Read online

  But the unicorn seemed to understand. He walked towards her and she took a few steps backwards, until she realized that she was standing in the middle of the frozen pool in the centre of the room. Her feet didn’t feel cold, and although she saw the clouds beneath her, she didn’t feel afraid as she had done on the mountainside.

  The unicorn circled the pool, his long tail swinging slowly and the muscles working in his hips and shoulders. “You want expensive jewels?” said the woman’s voice.

  Linnell nodded and a light white mist sprang up around her. The unicorn paced faster. “You have expensive jewels.”

  It was true. Linnell could feel the weight of a necklace at her throat. She stretched out her hands. There were rings on her fingers and bracelets around her wrists. Golden bracelets studded with gemstones. Diamonds and other coloured stones that she couldn’t name. She gasped. Her wish! Sander had spoken the truth. This unicorn really was able to work powerful magic. Something began to fall from the ceiling. At first, Linnell thought it was a hailstorm, although she knew that made no sense. Little hard white spheres rained down upon her, bouncing and rolling across the icy floor. One caught in Linnell’s hair and she plucked it out and examined it. It was a pearl. They were all pearls.

  “You want exquisite dresses?”

  Linnell nodded again. She could hardly believe that this was happening. The unicorn continued to walk around her and she felt her loose, farm girl’s frock and apron change into fine clothes. The bodice squeezed her midriff and the sweeping blue gown reached to the floor. Linnell gazed down at the skirt, every inch of which was covered with delicate gold embroidery. This was just what she had always wanted. She turned in a slow circle, feeling like a dancer on top of a music box. She stretched out her skirts with her hands and pointed a toe. Her shoes, also golden, had a jewelled buckle and a heel. She touched her hand to her head. The pearls were there, attached to a comb. She stood taller and straighter. Now she felt like the real Linnell, like the girl she was supposed to be. She could walk into a royal court and no one would question her. She could be whomever she wanted. Linnell lifted her chin and laughed.

  Then the unicorn stopped in front of her. His dark blue eyes stared into her own. “Now, it is your turn to give something to me.”

  Linnell’s heart beat faster. What could she give in exchange for all this? Nothing. Maybe now the wish would not be granted. The unicorn would be angry that she’d wasted his time. He would take all the fine things away from her and throw her out on the cold mountainside once again.

  Linnell lowered her gaze. “I have nothing to give you … sir.”

  She braced herself for the unicorn’s wrath but it didn’t come. Instead, he started circling again, but faster than he had done before, at a trot and then a canter.

  Linnell could no longer see the interpreter but she could hear her voice. “Everyone has something to give, Linnell. Think very hard. What do you have that you can give? What is your greatest gift?”

  Her greatest gift. When they put it like that, of course Linnell knew what it was – her father told her all the time. Her voice.

  She began to sing:

  “To me you are a diamond,

  To me you are a pearl,

  To me you are an emerald,

  To me you are the world.”

  As she sang, she thought of her father playing the fiddle. His kind eyes and his hand resting gently on her shoulder that morning. She thought further back, to the hazy memories of her mother.

  “Thank you, Linnell. This is exactly what my master was hoping for. Are you willing to give your gift to him?”

  Sander’s voice came back to her: Be careful what you give to the unicorn. He can’t take anything without your permission. Her singing voice was her mother’s gift to Linnell. Would she be willing to give it up for the sake of material things? As she sang, she knew that she would. Linnell nodded and spoke directly to the unicorn.

  “Yes. My gift is yours.”

  The unicorn lowered his head in response. There was a pause, where Linnell wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do next. Should she continue singing? As she began the second verse the interpreter spoke again.

  “Thank you, Linnell. The unicorn is most grateful for the gift of your memories. He will take them from you now.”

  MEMORIES

  Her memories? No – that wasn’t right. She was supposed to be giving him her singing voice. Linnell tried to speak, but she could not find the words.

  The unicorn’s hooves moved more quickly, although they didn’t seem to make a sound. Soon he was galloping around her and the white mist surrounding darkened to a greeny blue, rising from his hooves like dust clouds. She tried to watch but felt dizzy, confused. Surely he couldn’t really take her memories? She wouldn’t give those up to anyone.

  Yet, as the unicorn galloped, she felt the images in her mind slipping away. There was a fairy in the woods, dancing to the sound of the pipes. Someone rocking in a wooden chair with a crocheted shawl on her lap. Herself, at the age of three, chasing chickens. The smell of sweet hay and cows. Her father, his hair white, his face weathered. The feel of the cows’ udders as she milked and the sound of the milk hitting the wooden pail. A little yellow bird, trilling sweetly. The orange hawkweed on the mountainside and the matching sunrise that morning. Had it been that morning? Maybe it had been last week, or last year. She couldn’t remember. She wanted so badly to remember.

  There was a song. What were the words? If she could remember the words then it would all come back to her. An old man used to sing the song to her; or was it a woman? She couldn’t be sure. Something about diamonds and mountains. She could still sing the notes perfectly. She sang to the unicorn. He was beautiful. She could not remember quite what she was doing here but she knew he was beautiful. She wanted to stroke his mane.

  The unicorn slowed and steadily came to a stop in front of Linnell. He breathed hard through his nose and the old woman came and stood by him. He moved his head up and down in a slow nod.

  “My master thanks you. Now, you each have what you desire.”

  Linnell looked down at her fine clothes, felt the embroidery under her fingers. She was so lucky. But she was sure there was something more. “I wanted freedom…”

  “Yes, your freedom is granted. You may leave whenever you choose.”

  Linnell gazed around at the icy white room, the clouds beneath her feet, the sparkling light on the water and the ornate throne. She tried to think of a place where she might go but her mind was blank. She could not think how she had come to be here or from where she had come. Where could she possibly go that was more beautiful than this place?

  “Come with us now, child,” said the interpreter.

  Linnell smiled and followed her and the unicorn through a second set of doors. As she went, she hummed to herself. Such a sweet melody. She just wished she could remember the words.

  TWO YEARS LATER

  ESSENDOR

  FOOLISH RULES FROM

  RULING FOOLS

  Thandie

  The four of them sat high up on the slope just inside Essendor’s city walls. The summer sun was setting in the sky behind them and Thandie swatted at an occasional biting insect. She was teaching Tib the game of Merels. He was only five summers old, but he had picked it up quickly and would soon be better than she was. Finch sat cross-legged nearby and Hetty was on her own, a little further off, stitching something – probably embroidering a cushion cover or one of those other pursuits that Thandie couldn’t stand.

  Although Thandie didn’t love Essendor at the moment, she did love this spot, where she could see the goings on in the city, but also the river, the houses, the fields and the mountains all stretching out beyond. When others thought of Essendor, they might picture the castle, or the Midnight Unicorn. But to Thandie, the whole view was Essendor. The vast majority of the city’s population lived outside the city walls, just as she did.

  Hetty stood up, tucking her fabric under her arm as sh
e walked over to where they were playing. She watched the game for a few moments before she spoke. “It’s getting dark.”

  “And?” asked Thandie. Hetty was always worrying about one thing or another.

  “We have to be back by nightfall. The curfew – remember?”

  Thandie didn’t look up from the game board. She currently had three of Tib’s men blocked and if she didn’t concentrate and moved the wrong piece, he would take the lead. “It’s ridiculous to have a curfew. It’s still warm. On summer’s evenings we should be able to stay out for as long as we want. I’m at least going to finish this game.”

  Tib looked at Hetty and then back at Thandie. He played his next move, grinning. If Thandie was staying then he wasn’t going anywhere either. Thandie gave him a quick smile. She could always count on Tib.

  Hetty put her hands on her hips. “It’s not like it’s just Madam Tilbury we have to answer to – the curfew was ordered by a royal decree!”

  Thandie rolled her eyes. “It can’t be a royal decree when none of the royal family are here.”

  Their young queen, Queen Audrey, had been struck by a mysterious sleeping sickness and her twin sister Alette was leading a party to find the cure. “Anyway, what are the watchmen going to do – cart us off to the dungeons if we’re not in bed on time?”

  Finch stood up. “Come on you two. Hetty’s right. The guards will be doing their rounds soon and we need to be on the other side of the city wall. We don’t want to get locked in, do we?”

  Thandie sighed. “He’s beaten me anyway,” she said as Tib lined up three counters in a row, making a mill and stealing Thandie’s last piece.

  She shook Tib’s hand and together they poured the wooden pegs back into their little drawstring bag and picked up the board. They all headed towards the gates.

  On the way, Hetty carried on talking. “You do know the curfew is to keep us safe? The streets are dangerous at the moment. People are going missing and nobody knows why.”

  She directed her words at Tib, although Thandie knew they were meant for her. Just days after Alette left Essendor, people – older children and not-quite-adults – started going missing. It had been happening in smaller villages and towns for months, even years, but since Queen Audrey had taken the throne and the Midnight Unicorn had returned, Essendor had once again felt like a safe place to be. The thirteen-year reign of King Zelos seemed like a bad dream. But now their unicorn protector had forsaken them once again and the people of Essendor feared for their future.

  Thandie refused to believe that the Midnight Unicorn had abandoned them – at least, not forever. The unicorn was probably off fighting a battle on Essendor’s behalf. But in the meantime, the city’s inhabitants had to protect themselves. The royal council had decided that this meant a curfew: everyone should be home by nightfall. After that, the city gates were locked and watchmen were posted at the city walls. Anyone entering had to prove their identity or be locked out until morning. Those within the city walls, the royal family and their courtiers, were safe. People outside the city walls, the normal folk, were advised to lock their doors and not to leave children asleep on their own in bedrooms. This was no problem, since not many children on the outskirts of Essendor had the luxury of their own bedroom.

  Thandie thought the whole idea was a joke and she told Hetty so.

  “The curfew is ridiculous. A foolish rule from ruling fools.”

  “Our rulers are not foolish! They are a respected ruling council, chosen by the queen. They are doing the best that they can,” Hetty said.

  “I have to admit, the curfew sounds quite sensible to me,” said Finch.

  “The rules are foolish for three reasons.” Thandie held up her forefinger to indicate the first. “Firstly, they are made only for rich people. All the people locked in behind the guards are the rich and the important ones. On the other side, where the normal people like us live, we do not have sacks of gold or proper weapons or even locks on our doors. If a dragon or anyone wanted to carry us off, they just would, curfew or no curfew.”

  “So it’s a dragon taking people, is it?” said Hetty incredulously.

  Thandie ignored her and held up her second finger.

  “Secondly, not all the people who went missing disappeared in the darkness. The first Essendor child to go missing was the youngest of the stolen ones: little Clover Malling. She was taking some pears down to her mother’s market stall first thing in the morning. And Lilith Grain was coming home from school on a sunny afternoon.”

  “What about that boy from the Elithian circus? He was snatched in the dark.” Hetty shuddered at the thought.

  “Yes, it was dark, but we don’t actually know that he was snatched,” said Thandie. None of them knew any of these people or exactly what happened to them, but they knew their names and the stories of their sudden disappearances. They remembered the growing panic in the city and the search parties going out and coming back with nothing. “Night-time isn’t a more dangerous time. It just feels more dangerous and the curfew makes the royal council feel as though they are doing something. They want to be seen to be acting whereas they are probably panicking.”

  Hetty tutted at this rant, which she’d heard before, but Thandie continued anyway.

  “The most sensible thing to do would be to enforce an all-day curfew but then the fields wouldn’t be ploughed, the crops would be ruined and it would be all their fault. Much better to put a useless night curfew in place. Then the people won’t riot through fear and the city will just lose the odd child here and there.”

  Tib might not understand everything she was saying but he listened to every word. When she paused for breath, he grinned up at her, his white teeth gleaming in the near-darkness. “What’s the third reason that the rules are foolish?”

  Thandie grinned back. “The third reason is that if you make rules, there will always be someone who wants to break them.”

  They had nearly reached the city gates by now and the two watchmen turned at the sound of their footsteps.

  Thandie pulled her cloak up over her head and pressed herself into the shadows. “You three go ahead,” she whispered. “I’m going to stay here. I’ll show you just how easy it is to sneak past a couple of idle guards.”

  Hetty sighed. “This is really quite ridiculous. Can’t we just go home?”

  “You go! I will see you back at Madam Tilbury’s in a few minutes, or if I fail, you can visit me in the castle dungeon in the morning.”

  “This isn’t funny, Thandie. And why do you always say Madam Tilbury’s? Why can’t you just say ‘I’ll see you back home’ like the rest of us?”

  “Because it’s not my home,” whispered Thandie furiously.

  The two girls stared at each other for a good few seconds until Finch guided Hetty away by the elbow. “Come on, it’s not worth trying to persuade Thandie when she has her mind made up.”

  Thandie watched the three of them walk towards the gate. One of the soldiers spoke. “You’re cutting it fine tonight, young ’uns. Get yourselves back to bed and keep yourselves safe.” Finch muttered something in return and they shuffled through the gates, turning east towards Madam Tilbury’s.

  Three minutes and forty seconds later, Thandie was on the other side of the wall, running west. It was just as easy as she had said. A handful of pebbles thrown at a wooden door distracted the watchmen long enough for her to slip through unnoticed.

  Now, if she ran quickly enough and used her favourite shortcut, she would be back at Madam Tilbury’s before the others. Hetty would be furious!

  Thandie only stopped running as she swung the cottage door open. She slammed it shut behind her, and leaned back against it, laughing to herself.

  Madam Tilbury was sitting at the kitchen table, hands clasped around an earthenware mug. She had the look of someone who had just sat down for the first time that day, which was perfectly possible. She raised her eyebrows slightly. “You look exhausted! What have you been doing, child? Is everything a
ll right? Where are the others? I was beginning to wonder where you’d all disappeared to.”

  Thandie just giggled a little and shook her head. “They’ll be here soon.”

  Madam Tilbury stood and reached into the pantry for a jug of milk. She poured it into four cups and sat back down again. By the time Hetty, Finch and Tib burst in, Thandie’s red cheeks had returned to their usual colour and she was sitting across from Madam Tilbury, looking like she’d been there for hours. Hetty glared at Thandie. She couldn’t say anything in front of Madam Tilbury, of course, but Thandie could tell she was cross. She would probably have been happier if Thandie had been caught by the guards.

  Madam Tilbury pushed a cup of milk across the table towards each of them and they all sat down. Thandie was fond of Madam Tilbury. She knew a little of what Thandie had been through. Like Thandie’s mother, Madam Tilbury’s husband, Berwick had disappeared for months when Zelos was on the throne. She didn’t know for a long time whether he was alive or dead, but then he had turned up out of the blue along with the royal princesses. That was one of the reasons why she had taken the four children in. She understood. The only difference was that Thandie’s mother had not returned. Yet.

  When Queen Audrey came to the throne four years ago, one of the first things she did was to put measures in place to care for the city’s orphans. A lot of children had been left without parents, either through the disease and hunger that was rife in Zelos’s reign, or from the recruitment drive for his special army. Queen Audrey herself was an orphan. She was only nineteen – just a few years older than Thandie. Thandie felt sorry for her. Becoming queen at such a young age was a lot of responsibility. But she did a good job and made a difference. To help the orphans she appealed to ordinary families – families who’d never had any children of their own, or families like the Tilburys whose children had grown up and left home. Madam Tilbury didn’t have to think about it for very long. Now her husband, Berwick, was on the royal council, he was away a lot and she wasn’t keen on an empty house.